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Paul Wall

Genres: Hip-Hop

True Lyrics - Paul Wall

(*talking*) 

Here lizard-lizard-liazrd, uh 

It's the almighty King Koopa, Chamillionaire 

The color changing lizard, the Mixtape Messiah 

Please stand for the ghetto national anthem, let's go 

 

Forget what them boys is talking bout, I'm true-I'm true 

You riding swangs you gripping grain, I do-I do 

You candy red you candy blue, you popping trunk you jamming Screw 

Don't know about you, but I'm true-I'm true 

 

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Forget what these boys is talking bout, we wipe boys down 

In South Park on MLK, on Sunday we clown 

From the streets of Antoine, to the Homestead hoods 

From Mo City to Studewood, it's all good 

I'm riding on platinum grey, with Z-Ro and Trae 

Gon let the top down, it's a beautiful day 

Haters jealous on the sidelines, running they mouth 

Cause I roll with T.I.P., the king of the South 

Boys know I'm Paid In Full, so they clocking my dollas 

Me, Poppy, Joe and Fox all riding Impalas 

I'm breaking bread with Mike Jones, and Slim Thug the Boss 

It's Paul Wall, still representing Swishahouse 

I'm with my boy Big Kaila, I don't bar no hater 

I'm on the grind for paper, I'll holla at ya later 

Forget what they talking bout, I'm in love with my wealth 

I ain't gotta say I'm true, cause true speak for itself baby 

 

Photos 

 

They say I'm the greatest of all time, and I say who and they say you 

If she's a dime tell her I'm fine, and she'll say true-true 

Turn up the bang if you into, something color changing the rims do 

Sound like a train cause when I stop, they be like choo-choo-choo 

And I'm thugging too homie, the heater kinda like Al Bundy's hand 

Believe me everytime you see me, it's gon be in her pants 

If I do a crime and you snitch, homie the heater will snitch too 

Cause if the police come around, it'll be pointing at you 

Somebody give mouth to mouth to this mic, after it melt 

Cause the only rapper out rapping me is me, after myself 

I hope you internet thugs, that will swear that I ain't the tightest 

Have cyber sex with Cita, until you catch a virus 

Why is he saying this, to piss boys off 

I officially claim myself, the rap King of the South 

The say I'm the greatest of all time, and I say who and they say you 

And I say naw, give that title to the late great DJ Screw, rest in peace 

 

The definition of a pimp is (me), cause I ain't doing shit for (free) 

I got my own label now, if you ain't heard it's (Clover G's) 

Now me and Will chasing the scrill, we pulling up on chrome wheels 

Nigga, your royalty check looking like my phone bill 

Quick to capping picture snapping, paparazzi follow me 

Yeah I'm platinum I'll slap him, if he smoke up all my weed 

I love to speed on dubs and Spre's, bitches leave the club with me 

Snitches mean mugging me, don't make me bust my fucking heat 

We popping trunks and smoking blunts, that sticky-ickie (ooh-wee) 

Last year I did a mill, now I'm bout to do (three) 

I bring the heat on every track, it's five G's for every bar 

Just because I'm in a Porsche box, don't mean I like the spa 

That don't mean I like the car, you know I'm down to break your jaw 

Just because I burn rubber, that don't mean I like the tar 

We ghetto stars in every state, like Pimp and Bun we keep it trill 

And if you ain't heard, it's Lil' Flipper and Chamill' 

Writer:

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